So....I was thinkin': Falling Angels

So....I was thinkin': Falling Angels: Today is Friday, September 13 th , but I am not going to write about black cats crossing my path or walking under a ladder being bad luc...

A Year Ago Today

 A year ago I was sitting at my desk at work, and my cell phone rang. I saw the display name that it was coming from Beth Sholom, the home where my mother lived. I had not been happy with something that had happened when I had visited her that previous Sunday. I thought they were calling to discuss the situation with me. I got up to take the call in private, and, for someone who usually can remember everything, I can't really recall the words that were said, but the call was to tell me that she had passed away. I knew that she was probably not going to live much longer, in fact I had prayed for God to take her if he couldn't find a way for me to move her out of the home and in with me, but I was still shocked when the call came. I don't think we're ever prepared to hear that we've lost a loved one. I wasn't prepared. In my way, I held it together while the nurse was talking to me. I asked the questions I thought I needed to, and then I went out to tell my supervisor that my mother had died, and I needed to leave. She hugged me, and I fought it, as I usually do, because I always have to hold it together. She didn't let go of me, and I started to sob. I collected myself pretty quickly because I was the resident grown-up now, and I had to start making some plans and taking care of things, make arrangements. A year has come and gone, and so many things have happened. Some days have been worse than others. It took me a while to pull myself out after Mom first died. For a while, I really didn't care about anything. I had never experienced that in my life before, not even when my husband left me and the girls. I did finally come out of it. I'm not really sure when or what caused it, but I started to feel "normal" for lack of a better word. That's not to say that I don't still miss her, I do. I'm sure I always will. Heartland Hospice had a memorial service in May for all of their patients who had passed away in the previous year last May. It was a beautiful day, and the setting was a gorgeous chapel on a hill. It had been 10 months since Mom had left us, but I cried as if it had happened the day before the service. Sometimes I still cry, but now I laugh too when I think about different times we had together. Oh, and that piece of coconut cake..it still sits in the freezer uneaten, and it probably always will. 

It's not a matter of "IF." It's a matter of "WHEN."

 

Last night I did something on Facebook I thought I would never have to do. I marked myself safe during a shooting in Richmond, VA. Was I present at the shooting? No, but friends on Facebook who live outside of Richmond do not know that, and all they know is that I live in Richmond, and there was an active shooter situation where people were injured and killed. I can't say I'm shocked. I can't even say I'm sad. I'm numb! What will it take? Really, what will it take? This particular shooting, and I need to clarify because there are so many, took place last night outside of the Altria Theater just blocks from where my daughter works every day, a place I have attended several events and was just there on Mother's Day at the very same theater. They had just had a graduation of a local high school in the theater, and people were streaming outside to find their loved ones, take pictures, hug friends, happy moments and memories to last a lifetime, and shots ring out. This story from ABC's Good Morning America shows footage of the actual shooting. A friend was their with her daughter for her graduation. Happy pre-graduation photos in cap and gown in front of the theater, and in just a few short hours the same space would be sectioned off with yellow tape as a crime scene. This is my city. This is where I grew up. This is where I live, and now I can say this is where a mass shooting took place. Woo Hoo! Not a distinction I'm thrilled to claim. The local radio station I listen to on my way to work was inviting people to call and talk this morning, a sort of open forum. This grandmother called, and one of the things she said that really stuck with me was "We just need to keep praying. That's all we can do." All due respect to her, but I'm sorry, I'm sick of that trite, unhelpful response to this happening over and over again! Now before you Christians come after me, I wasn't taking issue with praying. I pray, and I'm a Christian, but I am feeling more and more like Ghandi as time passes when he said, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." If we are praying people, should we pray and have empathy for their loss, fear, anxiety, absolutely Yes! However her second statement is what riled me. "It's all we can do." Sorry, but it's not all we can do. It's all we've been doing, but it's not helping. We are the only nation that this is a massive problem. Pun intended. As a follower of Christ, and a believer in God, I search for guidance when I am troubled or have a problem that needs to be solved. I do not sit back and pray and expect God to magically fix it. Frankly, that's a little naive at best, and at worst, it's lazy expecting God to do the work, and when something fails, you have a convenient excuse that "it wasn't God's will." I love this old joke. You may have heard it: A man is in his house and a raging flood is causing the waters to rise up to his front door. A man comes by in a rowboat. "Get in," he yells to the man. The man responds, "God will save me," and waves the row boat on. The waters continue to rise, and the first floor is flooded. From the second story window, another rowboat goes by and yells for the man to get in. "God will save me," the man replies and, again, waves the row boat on. The waters continue to rise, and the second floor is now flooded, and the man is standing on the roof. A helicopter hovers above him sending down a ladder and motions for the man to climb up. "God will save me," he yells up and waves the copter away. The waters continue to rise, and the man drowns. He finds himself face to face with God in Heaven. Incredulously he asks, "God, why didn't you save me?" God looks straight at the man and says, "I sent you 2 rowboats and a helicopter." When all we're doing is praying to God and not listening to Him, we're missing our rowboats and helicopters. Solutions to this problem of mass shooting are all around us. Other countries don't have this problem. Why aren't we doing what they're doing? Why aren't we even trying to do anything? I'll tell you why. No one cares! The first mass shooting in the US occurred in 1982, according to this data from Mother Jones webpage In Miami, FL, in August of 1982, Carl Robert Brown methodically shot and attempted to kill everyone in a welding shop after having an argument the previous day over a $20.00 bill. 8 died, 3 others were injured. He purchased 2 shotguns and a semi-automatic rifle the morning of the shooting at a gun shop near his home. Since then, there have been hundreds. In 2023, alone, and we are only half way through, there have been 279 mass shootings in the US, that's including yesterday's in my hometown. And in case you're trying to make yourself feel better, and say, well, how many people died in all of those shootings? It doesn't f*cking matter! Someone opened fire into a crowd of people. A mass shooting is defined as 4 or more people shot at one time in the same relative area. I know there are people who will try to re-classify the shooting here in Richmond because the shooter knew the victim. "Well, that was personal." "That person had a grudge against the victim." And on, and on, and on. SHUT UP! That's the problem. it didn't affect them, so they don't have to worry about it. If they had been standing on Laurel street yesterday and had to run for fear that the pops they were hearing would possibly result in them being shot, they wouldn't be asking any clarifying questions. IT HAS TO STOP!!!!! There is no excuse. We can do something! Other people have done it. Hell, we've done it. The number of deaths caused by mass shootings and the number of shootings overall dropped from 1994 - 2004 when the US had a ban on Assault type weapons. Did you even know we had one? It was only signed into law if it had an expiration date, so it lasted 10 years, and the clause to make it expire would have had to be repealed by congress. That didn't happen, and it expired in 2004, and guess what happened in 2005? There was a steep and almost immediate rise in Mass shootings and deaths in those cases. From The Oregonian, average number of deaths per year from mass shootings went from 5.3 during the ban to 25 after the ban expired. Numbers do not lie! Why do we let it continue? What will cause this country to get it's act together and do something to stop this massacre? Until they start caring about people more than money, nothing will be done, and then you can plan on the fact that it won't be "if" you have some connection to a mass shooting, it will be "when"

They Died for This?

 I have not written in a while, but today I want to say something. We are approaching the Memorial Day Weekend. First, let me clear up a common misconception. Memorial Day is to honor service men and women who have died. Think about a Memorial service. That is a service to honor the person or persons who have died. This holiday is often confused with Veteran's Day, which is always November 11th, which honors anyone who has served or is serving in the U.S. Armed forces - Army, Navy, Air Force or Marines. I want to talk about Memorial Day specifically. No one in my immediate family has ever served in the armed forces. I have friends who served and a great uncle that I never met, but the impact of losing someone in battle has never happened to me personally. I do know, for lack of a better resource, through movies and television, the horrors of combat. I am specifically thinking of the beginning sequence of Saving Private Ryan brilliantly shot by Steven Spielberg. I have posted the clip before, and I won't post here again, but if you haven't watched it, you need to. This post is not about that day. This post is about the fact that people died fighting for FREEDOM! Not just ours in America, but to liberate other people from oppression. Yes, over the years the question has come up of whether we should be in a war or going to war or stationed in a country to protect others from cruelty and injustice, and the abolishment of their rights as fellow human beings, but regardless of what people thought at home, men and women were dying for FREEDOM. Let me stress that again in case you didn't catch it the first time. DYING for FREEDOM. 

I listened to an audiobook not long ago, The Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly. It takes place during World War II. It is a work of historical fiction. It is told from the point of view of 3 women, all affected in different ways, by the war and the aftermath. They are all connected in some way to Ravensbrück Women's Concentration camp. If you are not familiar with this particular camp, as I was not until listening to this book, it is where medical experiments were done on the women there. I also listened to The Tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris. This was a true story. In both these books, one of the hopes the prisoners hold onto through the terrible torture they are forced to endure each day is that the Americans are close. They will be rescued soon by the Americans. I focus on World War II because I think most people have more than a general knowledge of what we were fighting for, but all service persons who have died no matter what, are important and we owe them a debt of gratitude. Hell, we owe them our lives which brings me to my point. Looking at the state of this country today, what did they die for? And before you come for me with both guns blazing - sadly that phrase is all too literal these days - this is not about the Left or the Right. This is about FREEDOM. Those men and women died so we could be FREE, ALL OF US, NOT JUST WHITE HETEROSEXUAL MEN! I watch the things that are happening in this country on a daily basis, and I can't believe the reports I'm seeing are about THIS country, the United States, and I leave out America, because even that carries a negative connotation these days because of the people that wave the American flag with pride while they're spewing hate. On May 21, 2023, the NAACP issued a travel warning for the state of Florida, following closely after The League of United Latin American Citizens and Equality Florida stating that Florida "has become openly hostile toward African Americans, people of color and L.G.B.T.Q.+ individuals." I'm sorry, WHAT??? I am reading a warning from all 3 of these organizations that if my oldest daughter, who is proudly Pansexual, wants to visit her aunt, who lives in Florida, and by the way does not agree with the state's policies or the hate their Governor is spewing, it could be dangerous for her to do so. This is not what those men and women died for. I am ashamed of the country we have become. My daughter posted a very scary map of states that are already dangerous to live in if you are part of the Trans community, and the ones that in a matter of 2 years could be enacting laws that would pose a danger. Virginia is one of those 2 year states. I live in a state that could possibly pass laws that say it is illegal for people to be who they are!

What is going on? We are better than this! You know what? Maybe we're not. Maybe this is always who we were, and now we've been given the "permission" to show it. I would be embarrassed, no, ashamed, to stand in front of any of those soldiers who died on the beaches of Normandy, or on the battlefields of Korea, or in the jungles of Viet Nam, or in the desert in Afghanistan or on and on and on, and show them this country and what we have become, what we are letting happen. That we have turned the freedom they fought for into hate and outlawing individuals. Really? They died for this?

Hurry Up and Grieve!

 In a few short minutes it will be midnight, and the date will be October 18, 2022. What's special about 10/18/22, you say? Well, really nothing special, not to the world anyway, but to me. The 18th of any month is going to be a day I remember. The 18th will mark 2 months since I received a call at work at 2:45 in the afternoon telling me that my mother had passed away, Today has been hard, my friends! That is difficult for me to say, and even worse for me to feel because I have always been the one to "hold it together." I fall apart at movies, TV shows, even commercials, but real life? Not this gal. So today, the 17th, I have been crying on and off all day, and I'm not just talking about shedding a tear or two. I'm talking weeping, audible, can't catch my breath, sobbing. It started this morning as I looked out into my backyard while I was eating breakfast. I just started to cry. Then all day, at random times I would start to cry again and have to pull myself together. I kept thinking, Stop! This isn't me. I don't do this. You're the rock, Terri. You keep yourself together," but I couldn't today, no matter how hard I tried. Now, people will say, it's ok to cry, and I know that, but I am a person who needs to know why so I can fix it. The problem is I can't fix this one. My mom is not coming back, and I can't change that. Now, I have been through a lot of shit in my life, if you follow this blog, I've written about a lot of it, and people have always said, "You're so strong!" You start to believe the hype, ya know? I'm not saying I'm not strong, I am. If not, I'm not sure I would have survived, but being that strong person made me feel like I couldn't break. Forget break, I don't even allow myself to bend. Here's the thing. I'm putting all of this on myself. I'm setting some time limit on grieving like there's a cutoff. I talked a lot today to both of my girls, and they were both wonderful and supportive as they always are, and I realized something. In the last year that I was able to actually see my Mom in the nursing facility, she really didn't talk all that much, so I would go visit and just tell her about life for the week we'd been apart. That's gone now, and I think it really hit me today how lonely that makes me feel. I was just telling her stupid stories about work or some idiot on the highway, but she listened to me and sometimes offered an opinion, or I'd say, "remember that time we...., "and she might smile and add a little to the story. All of that's gone, and I find that incredibly sad. I guess I'm not at the "memories comforting me" stage yet, and I might not be there for a long time, and today I might have taken the first step to tell myself that's ok. No little quips or sarcastic remarks today, just straight up what I'm going through. I'm going to really try hard to give myself some time, and stop saying, "stay strong" all of the time. For now, I think "fall apart" will do me more good. 

An Uneaten Slice of Coconut Cake

My daughter and I were riding home from work together on Wednesday evening, and as we passed the new Ukrops Market Hall at the corner of Horsepen and Patterson you could smell the famous fried taters they make, and she asked if we could stop there as she had never been. I pulled into the parking lot, and we went in. We looked around for a few minutes, and as I passed by the cakes I noticed that they had Coconut cakes by the slice. Coconut Cake has always been one of my mom's favorites. When I visit her in the nursing home, I always try to take her a treat, something she loves, a baked potato with all the fixin's, a milkshake, ice cream, my carrot cake (which she has apparently shared about with several of the nurses) and a good Hanover Tomato sandwich. I was able to take her all those things at one time or another, but never Ukrops Coconut Cake because I was never able to find it by the slice. I was thrilled and grabbed a slice to take with me on my visit Friday. Thursday afternoon, yesterday, around 2:45 pm, I got the call that my mother had passed. She had been in Hospice Care for some time - shoutout here to Heartland Hospice! They were amazing! - and in the past 2 weeks she had definitely declined, and I wanted her to cross over as I knew she would be at peace, but it was still a shock. It's funny the little things that we think about when we grieve. I thought about the fact that she didn't get her slice of coconut cake. It is sitting in the fridge on the shelf, and she didn't get it. She wasn't expecting it. It was just something I saw and picked up because I knew she would love it. I am sure I will have that same thought again when I am out or when I make Carrot cake this Thanksgiving or even next summer when Hanover tomatoes are at their ripest that I should take mom this sandwich or slice of cake, she would love this and then realize she is not there to take anything to....I know I just ended the sentence with a preposition, but today is not about grammar. The point is, we are not guaranteed time with anyone. We will all die someday, that is a fact, we just don't know when. I know it's cliché, but make the most of your time for yourself and the people you love. Like all mothers and daughters we had our issues, but in these last 2 years as roles have been reversed, I have had the time to be with her without all the mess of the world. I would just visit and talk. We'd laugh about Andy Griffith or The Golden Girls or she'd ask me questions about what was going on as we sat there and watched Toy Story, or I'd mock the ridiculous, predictable plot of a Hallmark Channel movie, and she'd laugh. I loved my mom, and I know that she knew that. In fact it's the last thing she said to me when I left her room last Sunday afternoon, and they were also the last words she heard from me. I really can't ask for more than that. I am so glad she is at peace and with my dad, and her parents, and best friend and loving pets, but I know I will never pass by coconut cake again and not think of her, and the uneaten slice in the fridge.

We Only Know the Middle. He Knows the End

 

I have not written a post for months. Not sure why. I promised myself when I started this blog that I would not write unless inspired. That sounds like a sad commentary on my life for the last nine months. It hasn't been that I haven't been inspired. I guess I just got the feeling that nobody wanted to listen anymore. Well, I felt like someone out there may need to hear this particular thought. We only know the middle. God knows the end. If you have read this blog at all in the last 12 years that I have been writing it, you know that I am a person of faith. I have been through a lot of things in my life that I know I would not have survived without faith. There is something comforting in knowing that someone bigger and smarter and more compassionate than me is in charge. Now, that is not to say that I don't try to run things in my life, because I DO! usually to my detriment. Something happened a couple of weeks ago that has turned our community upside down. A dear, sweet, faithful, young woman, that I know through the theatre community, was lost in a drowning accident. All of the questions and feelings come rushing forth. Why God? Why her? This is not fair! Anger, Confusion, Resentment, Guilt, Powerlessness, Denial, Devastation, Fear. I could go on and on. If you are not familiar with what happened after the accident, the search for her went on for a week. Here is the amazing thing, and this is why I am writing today. Her mother kept us all updated on Facebook every day as to what was going on. People came out in droves to help in the search. People all over the world were sending messages and praying. Her mother is a great person of faith, and that was clear in every post. I was in awe. I have a daughter almost the same age as hers, and I cannot say that I would have been able to do what she did. Now, many of you, at this point, are saying, "What good did your prayers do? She is still gone. The outcome was tragic!" You are right! The outcome was tragic! A beautiful girl has left this world, and we mourn her loss, and the life unlived, but we only know the middle. He knows the end. We, in our humanness, cannot understand why tragedy happens. I don't think God causes tragedy, but I believe He can take any situation and bring good out of it. We will never know how this event affected people, but God knows. We will never know how a mother's faith and testimony moved people to make it through their own crisis or inspired them to continue in this life, but God knows. We will never know if someone turned to God who had turned away because of this community's love for this family, but God knows. If any of those things happened, I know that this sweet girl is rejoicing that it did. Please do not twist my words and think that I am glad this happened. That is not what I am saying at all! What I am saying is that we cannot give up when things seem darkest. We have purpose! We have meaning! whether we are here for 30 years or 100. Live every day knowing that, and do not waste any of it.